


How To Kill A Beast: Does A Hunter Risk Viscerals While Fingering?

by Helicon



Series: ModounBubble’s Time-Extended Gift Fic [2]
Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Choking, Dom/sub, Fingering, Fisting, Hand & Finger Kink, Intersex, Nonbinary Character, Other, Overstimulation, tongue kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-17 09:54:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13074426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helicon/pseuds/Helicon
Summary: Yet again, distracted from the Hunt. From a lot of things, actually.





	How To Kill A Beast: Does A Hunter Risk Viscerals While Fingering?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ModounBubble](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ModounBubble/gifts).



“Any word on killing god?”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s just that I had a thought, you know, I’ve been trying to kill this thing in the Choir’s basement…”

Gehrman stared directly into the Hunter’s eyes for the longest time (really, it was just half a minute) before huffing and re-buttoning their jacket. Either totally ignorant of or just ignoring the Hunter’s offended grumbles, he started to wheel himself away before they called out:

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Lips set in a soft little pout, they crossed their legs and thrust out their flat chest like a bird. “I’ll be good. Promise.” They took a second to rub both thighs together though they knew they were already excited. Their face brightened once Gehrman approached them again, that awful sly smile on his face _just like fucken’ last time…_

He flicked the hat off their head, where it hit the wall right behind them and dropped to the floor. “I don’t believe you,” he said plainly. “We’ll have to make sure you don’t get off track this time.”

“Oh? Will we?” The Hunter grinned, curling their upper lip to show off their sharp teeth. “I’d like to see you try.”

Clearly, those were the magic words. Bracing himself on the edge of the workbench, Gehrman stood and cupped the Hunter’s jaw in one hand, turned their head upward and brushed his thumb over their lips. “I won’t have to,” he said, poking the tip into their mouth. “By now, I’d imagine I know just what makes you tick…” Saliva began to build as he pressed down on their tongue, and followed in a slight drool as he dragged his thumb out of their mouth and down their chin, then suddenly pulling the Hunter by their cravat into a deep kiss.

Their skin prickled and nipples hardened at a wet touch. The Hunter moaned, pulled their head back, but leaned further towards Gehrman’s hand as it slipped beneath their shirt. They dove back in, biting at his mouth and whining when their front was finally fully exposed, the buttons undone and their coat sinking off their shoulders.

“You’re not gonna undress?” asked the Hunter, just a little breathless.

“Why would I?”

“Not even the pants?”

“What about yours?” Gehrman hooked his fingers in the waistband of the Hunter’s trousers, laughing when they kicked out on either side of him. He wasn’t about to back up anytime soon, not with the edge of the table keeping him relatively upright more than his own legs, so the Hunter would have to fix that problem themselves. Fair enough to them, they didn’t have to be told — they rolled back onto their shoulderblades, kicking off their shoes and tugging off their pants almost upside-down. Their shorts were undone to begin with, which was admittedly odd since they did have the means to repair the button fly they’d wrecked earlier, but Gehrman thought nothing of it. It just made his job easier.

The Hunter launched themselves back onto their butt and sunk their fingers into Gehrman’s hair. “Can you fuck me again? Pl _mmf—“_

Their sentence was cut off by two fingers in their mouth, taking their tongue between them and pinching a little. The Hunter let out a low moan and wiggled out of their shorts, clit peeking out of their lips damp and at attention. Thick strings of moisture connected them and the table for a short moment as they rolled their hips and bare backside into it. As their clit brushed against the wood they jumped a little — they hadn’t expected to be totally erect by now.

The Hunter’s next attempt at pleading for a little bit of contact would have fallen on deaf ears if they’d made it at all. At the first vibrations of noise in the back of their mouth, Gehrman tugged lightly on their tongue. “Patience, Hunter. Patience.”

Even with their tongue held for them the Hunter gave a disappointed whine.

They reeled, skin prickling at the scrape of nails against their thigh that drew closer to their privates at an agonizingly slow pace. It had taken them some time to fully settle into the very concept of having a fetish, but now? When — just for this night — they’d found a partner willing to practice it with them, who had absolutely no problem teasing at the back of their throat and holding the intent of fucking them good in the very near future over their head? Just where they couldn’t reach, where every subtle movement of their pelvis towards his hand was met with another knuckle past their teeth.

Gehrman knew the Hunter wouldn’t bite. They knew that he knew, and were sorely tempted, but kept their jaw loose for fear that he would stop again.

An eternity that was really just five minutes later, they found their mouth empty and two spit-soaked fingers tracing the outside of their crotch. They scooted backward to give him more room to work with and were rewarded with a quick flick to their inner labia, the shock of which shot up their spine and tightened the corners of their mouth.

“Stay still, will you?” One hand firm on what small amount of the Hunter’s breast could be grabbed, Gehrman leaned over their body and swiped the fingers of his other hand lengthwise across their cunt. He held it out to them. “There we go,” he said as they took his fingers in their mouth and sucked them clean. “Consider me impressed, you actually behaved. And after all that back-and-forth about the Chapel…”

“So I took it the wrong way!”

“So you’re lucky the fall killed you before the Amygdala did. Was I wrong, Hunter? Must I stop to prove a point about being needlessly chatty _again?”_

The Hunter shook their head. “No! No, that won’t be necessary. Not at all.”

“Lovely.” With that, Gehrman took his hand away from the Hunter’s face and pressed two fingers into them up to the knuckle. “And no, I won’t be fucking you again tonight. I’m not a one-trick pony, you know.”

“Fancy way of admitting you’re old and can’t keep up with me,” teased the Hunter. They clenched their thighs hard enough to prevent Gehrman from removing his fingers, and they would’ve deserved it, but no way were they giving this up.

“Fancy way of admitting we could try but we would be here all night, and you have better things to do.”

“Better things to do than really good sex?”

“I will _not_ hesitate to sever you from the Dream right here and now!”

“And deprive yourself of the view!”

They would have been better off keeping their mouth shut, but when Gehrman wrenched his hand free of their vicegrip, it wasn’t to stop but to give the Hunter a sharp and stinging slap on the outer thigh, and to move the other one from their chest to their throat. Right below the midpoint, where the pressure built but there wasn’t enough weight behind it to cut off their breathing. Grinning wildly, they clutched at his wrist with both hands.

It was at this point that the Hunter knew it to be in their best interest for them to be quiet. They angled their hips upward to present themselves better, and they weren’t sure but judging by the slippery wetness dripping down their ass they’d either come already or were decently close. Their clit twitched of its own accord — any more stimulation to it and they couldn’t be certain they would be able to take it at all.

Their body jerked back at the unanticipated intrusion of two, then three fingers now, crowded together and pushing on every side of their inner walls to make room. The Hunter squealed and let one hand wander towards their chest where their pulse raced like it only had when they’d fought those giant monsters back in Yharnam. Bringing their knees back to open themselves a little more, they rocked their hips into every motion until they felt Gehrman’s palm digging into their clit, little circles exactly where they wanted it so badly but at the same time loathed him for it.

“C’mon, let up, I’m gonna—“ they cried out. Their whole lower body twitched with no sign of stopping.

“Going to what?”

Oh, the old bastard was having way too much fun with this. And the Hunter couldn’t blame him. Before they could wrap their head around words, their insides pulsed and the ache inside them lifted momentarily.

Another swipe over their clit, another finger inside them, then thumb; the stretch burned but it was nothing they couldn’t handle. “A-again?” they asked.

Gehrman paused, putting a little more pressure on their throat and letting it go just as quickly. “Do you want it again?”

“I want to see what you think you’re gonna do now…”

A quick flicker of teeth in a grin, which were then laid against the skin of their neck. The Hunter hummed as the rhythmic contracting of their inner walls faded.

“Careful,” the Hunter cautioned. “It does actually kinda hurt if you go too deep.”

Gehrman clicked his tongue and gently nipped at the Hunter’s neck, driving his hand in up to the wrist and then stopping again. There was the Hunter, breathing hard in his ear, air catching in their throat when he pulled out enough to rub firmly on a sensitive spot. Wetting their lips, reaching their hand down between his legs, whining when he pulled away from it and took that hand in his unoccupied one to place it on their own hips.

Their heart jumped into their throat all of a sudden — he’d made a tight fist inside them, drew it out enough to stretch their entrance further and then pushed it back in, harder and deeper than before. The Hunter was unsure if they’d tightened up inside in shock or arousal, but it was enough to bring their overstimulated self to another orgasm, more than they realized now that they could take. Reality — whatever reality this was — began to fade.

Exhaustion crept in, but they were keenly aware of Gehrman rolling his sleeves back down and covering up their shameless shame with their previously-discarded coat. They wouldn’t truly sleep. It was much too late into the night for that. But rest, rest was nice… and so was that pat on the head. 

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, Bubble! There’s more where this came from.


End file.
